Whipped

Pew pew, a shot in the dark.

“Don’t even,” Bradleigh warned, attempting to seem intimidating but completely failing.

I raised my hands palm up in a defensive position. I shook my head slightly. “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Yeah but you were thinking something,” she stated.

“Oh really? So you can read my mind now,” I said in a deadpan tone, giving her my signature straight face that always comes across as mean and upset, or so I’ve been told. Bradleigh attempted to reciprocate my expression. We just stared at each other until Bradleigh’s resolve finally broke and she cracked a smile. I crossed my arms and smirked, looking utterly smug at my victory.

“Damnit!” Bradleigh yelled out in frustration, although she had an underlying tone of laughter seeping through her words. “How in the world can you just sit there with a straight face for so long?”

“I got skiiills bitch!” I said playfully, reciting a line from a funny movie I saw.

Our lighthearted atmosphere was penetrated by a couple of girls sitting at the next table, laughing obnoxiously. They looked like complete bimbos and they were playing a stupid little game of “Fuck, kill, Marry”. One of them was wearing a One Direction band tee, an obvious die-hard directioner like myself. I got up and walked over to the girl wearing the band tee.

“Hey mind if I join?” I asked politely, although they couldn’t tell that I had a slight tone of menace in my voice.

“Sure!” the girl chirped cheerily.

“Okay then. Fuck, kill, or marry: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, and Liam Payne,” I gave the girl a devilish grin. Her eyes bulged and her jaw dropped with a loud, overly dramatic gasp.

“OMG! You’re so mean! How could you say that?! Go die you bitch!”

All traces of my grin were gone in a matter of seconds.

“Aww man, shit’s ‘bout to go down,” I could hear Leah say behind me.

“Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you correctly,” I said in a misleadingly calm voice.

“ I said, Go. Die. You. Bitch.” She repeated to me like I was an idiot.

“Ooh, big mistake,” Bradleigh added in.

“What the fuck is your problem?! I was just kidding! Calm your fucking fake ass tits!” I said in a raised tone, struggling to reign in my anger.

“Don’t you dare joke about them like that! You obviously aren’t a Directioner, and if you are then you don’t deserve to be one.”

“Really? What’s so bad about making a goddamned joke? They’re not freaking gods!”